Even with news the Hong Kong government will hold talks with those occupying the city’s streets, protesters will likely not succeed in their two stated goals: the resignation of Hong Kong chief executive C.Y. Leung, and rules guaranteeing honest elections for future chief executives, starting in 2017.

What the students have achieved, however, is something far more alarming for any regime lacking the security of political legitimacy: They’ve made their leaders look ridiculous.

Granted, China has brought this all upon itself. Notwithstanding the many symbols of a modernizing China — gleaming skyscrapers, state-of-the-art infrastructure, a record IPO on the New York Stock Exchange — whenever Beijing finds itself challenged by ordinary Chinese, it opts for a response right out of Communist central casting.

The latest was this week’s tear-gassing of the most gentle, law-abiding citizens you’ll find. In so doing, authorities elevated the humble umbrella into a democratic icon, used by protestors to shield themselves from sun and rain and, now, their own police force firing tear gas.

In so doing, too, Chinese leaders unwittingly opened up yet another avenue for their own humiliation.

Look what happened Oct 1.

The date marks the anniversary of Mao’s declaration of the People’s Republic of China. These days it’s a holiday in Hong Kong, where officials show up for solemn ceremonies filled with pieties no one really believes about the heroic achievements of the People’s Republic and the love of Hong Kong people for the motherland.

This Wednesday, the entire holiday was up-ended by a local pro-democracy councilman, Paul Zimmerman. During the official ceremony, a smiling Zimmerman unfurled a bright yellow umbrella.

The photograph of that yellow umbrella — standing out sharply against the sea of grim black suits and red flags — went around the world, just another of the many highly public embarrassments not only for Leung but for his masters in Beijing.

Leung must be getting used to it. Today, no one in Hong Kong refers to Leung by either his name or his office. In a city of more than 7 million people, he’s referred to as “689,” a reminder of the number of votes in the Beijing-appointed committee that selected him as Hong Kong’s leader.

To put it another way: The emperor has no votes!

It must be maddening for Xi Jinping, China’s relatively new premier. Xi hails from the We’ll Show Them Who’s Boss school of governance, and in the short time he’s been in office he’s sent a message of zero tolerance for dissent.

Those targeted include Xu Zhiyong, a mainland lawyer who led a movement for transparency and fairness and was jailed this year after being convicted in a sham trial — for the high crime of “gathering a crowd to disrupt public order.”

So Xi fancies himself a tough guy. And as a man who has made his way up the Communist Party of China, he likely shares the mainland stereotype of Hong Kongers as rich, spoiled and soft.

But here’s the reality: A 17-year-old Hong Kong kid with thick black glasses and a bowl haircut is making a monkey out of Xi before the entire world.

The kid’s name is Joshua Wong, an evangelical Christian and first-year university student.

Two years back, before this young man was even shaving, he led similar demonstrations that succeeded in forcing Hong Kong to drop plans to adopt “patriotic education” — i.e., Communist Party indoctrination — in its schools.

Wong is very young, too young. He’s made a few mistakes, and he’ll make more. But guess what? This teenager has set the leadership in both Beijing and Hong Kong back on their heels.

How do you think that sits with Xi — or the hard men in the Politburo when they calculate whether Xi and Leung are up to their jobs?

Yes, authorities could send in the People’s Liberation Army troops to clear the streets, and no one ought to rule it out. That, however, would instantly invite comparisons with Tiananmen Square in 1989.

Is this the face of China Xi really wishes to present to the world just before President Obama and other heads of state come to Beijing for the Asia Pacific Economic Forum in November?

In the meantime, those “soft” and “spoiled” Hong Kongers have stood up. Over a street in downtown Hong Kong they have draped a banner with words from the theme song of the student revolutionaries in “Les Miserables”: “Do you hear the people sing?”

The message is clear: However this standoff ends, China will be dealing with these young people for decades to come.

In this moment, alas, they find themselves living under leaders whose mishandling of Hong Kong has left them with only bad choices: between looking weak and ridiculous — or strong and brutal.